Dixon's Dilemma
by Whatsinaname1997
Summary: Daryl/OC, ***3rd in the 'Dixon's Archer' series*** / Daryl knows something's wrong with his Emma. Trouble is she's not talking. "Wanna talk 'bout this here or upstairs? 'Cause I'm getting the truth outta you, either way." / Story with a side of smut. ***COMPLETE***
1. Breakfast revisited

_Foreword:_

_Thank you very much for all the kind reviews and emails regarding the Dixon's Archer series (There are three: Dixon's Archer, Archer's Errand and now Dixon's Dilemma). Reader feedback is greatly appreciated and very encouraging. I hope this tides you over until Feb 8th when TWD returns with new episodes._

_Remember: Dixon dies & we RIOT!_

**Dixon's Dilemma**

**CH 1: Breakfast Revisited**

Emma stopped in the stairwell on her way up to her watch. She leaned her face against the cold stone wall and gripped the iron railing tightly.

The world was spinning again.

It had been happening for a few weeks now. Emma tired easily and was often light headed. She debated begging off watch and going to bed, but felt the need to pull her weight. Everyone at Fort Charles had a job to do and Emma wasn't about to shirk her responsibilities.

Taking a few deep breaths, she continued up the stairs at a slower pace. Emma reached the top a little more out of breath than usual, but otherwise the dizziness had faded.

Tyreese spotted her from his post and waved. "All's clear. You on 'til dusk?"

She nodded. "Traded off with Maggie." Emma had walked into the kitchen, smelled dinner and fled.

A bout of food poisoning had gone through the fort in the past month. Half the fortresses' inhabitants had been ill. Costas had ordered a halt to any activity beyond the walls and assigned all able bodied persons to work on preserving the last of the fall harvest.

The less sick were assigned to tending to the very ill... The very ill, well...Emma had found herself in that category.

Daryl, of course, was unaffected. _Thank God,_ she thought, _at least one of us was functioning. _

Although she had mostly recovered, Emma still didn't have the stomach for food.

It was too bad too, Glenn had been doing the lion's share of the cooking lately as their regular chef, Sheila, was suffering from a sprained ankle. He was a good cook and brought an Asian flare to the food.

It was a nice change from the everyday.

Tyreese handed her the binoculars he'd been using. "Looks like a storm might be brewing." He pointed to dark clouds in the distance.

Emma nodded. "Snow's coming." Her mouth set in a grim line.

"Don't worry about Daryl and Michonne." His voice was reassuring. "They'll be back in time."

Daryl, fully recovered from his own run-in with the living in early fall, had gone out with Michonne earlier that week to do one last search for survivors. When the pair returned, the fort's inhabitants would be pulling back inside their walls and settling in for the winter.

_Also known as the quiet season._ Emma thought, dreaming of shorter days and evenings spent chatting by the fire. She could relax when Daryl returned. Until then she'd be on edge. It was late in the season to be doing the last big circuit. The weather had been unusually mild, but she was worried. It was a bad idea to be far from the fortress when the snow rolled in.

"I'm sure they're fine." Emma gave Tyreese a brave smile. "You'd better hurry, dinner's already on the table."

Tyreese nodded and disappeared down the stairwell, leaving Emma on the wall to her watch. She hugged her arms around her chest and pulled out the thermos of hot broth that she'd nabbed from the kitchen. It was pretty much all her stomach could handle.

As she sipped, the wind picked up. Archer tucked her scarf into her coat and zipped it up a bit higher. The air held the smell of winter and the promise of colder days ahead.

Her eyes looked out over the clouds in the north, they were heavy and grey. It didn't seem like snow, but there was definitely some weather to the North.

She shivered, hoping for Daryl's swift and safe return.

-{O}-

The next morning, Emma found herself retching in Dolly's stall.

Again.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she leaned against the back of the stall.

_I should not have eaten the porridge before heading out to the stables. _As soon as she finished, it tried to escape the confines of her stomach.

When the nausea passed, Emma took a swig from her water bottle to rinse out her mouth. She spat it back out into the stall and shoveled the mess into the wheelbarrow. It would be carted away to the skep pile with the rest of the muck.

With the last stall completed, she sat down on the floor of the barn and tried to gather up the strength to sweep the aisle.

Every morning was the same routine. Wake up famished, eat breakfast, vomit. It was getting harder and harder to attribute it to food poisoning.

With the stables' inhabitants out in their paddocks, the winter cold seeped in. The floor was leaching the warmth she'd built up away from her body. Sighing, she stood up slowly.

With a grim face she began the task of sweeping the aisle.

Although it chafed her, she had to agree with Rick's decision to send Michonne in her place on the last circuit of the season. It was unlikely she would have been much help to Daryl if they ran into trouble.

Daryl hadn't wanted to leave her since he'd been her primary nursemaid. He'd only agreed to leave when Emma had appeared to have recovered. In fact, she'd felt fine for the two days _after_ Daryl had left.

Then she missed her period and started vomiting up her breakfast every morning.

_At least, I think I missed it,_ she thought as she swept the last little bit of mess into the back stall. She couldn't be sure when she'd had it last. Emma had never bothered keeping track. _If I get passed this, I'm getting a calendar._

-{O}-


	2. Seeing Spots

**CH 2: Seeing Spots**

"You think I can play bait with you next spring?" Carl trotted Black up beside Churchill as they turned back down the game trail.

Emma tightened Churchill's reins to stop him from taking a chunk out of Black. He settled for flattening his ears instead. "Maybe late spring. You only just started over fences, and you won't get much practice once the snow hits."

They were out checking the traps on the north side of Charlie's territory.

Aside from an odd walker or two, the traps were empty. This was wholly expected as the fall herds had long since passed. The gold and yellow leaves of autumn had abandoned their branches, lying in drifts on the ground for the horses' hooves to swish through.

"Cheese?" Carl held out a cloth-wrapped chunk of goat cheese to Emma.

The idea of food made her cringe. "No thanks."

"More for me." The young man shrugged, biting into the snack. "What's next?" He asked around a mouthful of cheese.

Emma winced but decided that she wasn't up to a lesson in manners. "We've got to check the orchard trap and then we can head back."

"Cool."

"How are classes?" She asked, keeping an eye on the woods. With the leaves having abandoned their summer perches, visibility was excellent. It was unlikely that a walker would get the drop on them.

This time of year, she was more concerned with the living. The dry leaves on the ground made it impossible for the horses to move stealthily through the woods. Archer was certain that the rustling could be heard for miles.

Emma's thoughts drifted back to her conversation with Sal before heading out this morning.

"_He's got to learn the routes." Sal had told her. "The North is always quietest this time of year. It's a good chance to see how he handles the horses away from the fort. Besides," the old farmer shrugged "you need someone with a side-arm, just in case."_

"—don't really get the point of it." Carl had been talking but she'd missed most of what he said.

"What don't you get?"

"I don't see why I need to know chemistry." Carl reached up and snapped off a low lying branch, tossing it aside. "It's not like I'm going to need it."

"Michael's teaching you that, right?" The fort had a plethora of teachers, depending on the subject. Anyone under the age of 20 was required to attend classes in traditional subjects like Math and history, in addition to the survival skills taught to all members of the community.

"Yeah." Carl grabbed another branch, causing Black to shy.

"Stop doing that." She advised him. "No sense making Black fidget. When you have your next class with Michael, ask him to show you some practical applications."

"Show me what?"

Emma sighed. "Ways to use chemistry in today's world. I'm sure there's something around the fort that uses it." She really had no idea if it did. Michael had spent years thinking up new ways to improve the lives of everyone at Fort Charles. There had to be at least one improvement that relied on knowledge of chemistry.

"Yeah, sure." Carl seemed unimpressed.

Churchill lifted his head up and flicked his ears back and forth. The gelding slowed and let out a loud whinny. Emma gave Carl the signal to halt.

"What is it?" Carl asked withdrawing his side-arm.

"Not sure." She stiffened and scanned the woods. Straining her ears, she could hear branches cracking. "Something's coming."

"Walker?"

Emma shook her head. "I don't think so."

"How do you know?"

"I don't. Churchill does." Churchill pawed when walkers were near. The whinny was new. He'd never done that before.

She could hear whatever it was approach. It was closer now, and headed this way. Black heard it too and let out a loud call.

"Shit." Carl pulled the reins, trying to get his mount's focus back on him.

Emma saw it first, a white body moving through a stand of cedars. Then she heard it whinny in response to Black's call. "I don't believe it."

"It's a horse!" Carl exclaimed as the appaloosa cleared the cedars, flipping his head at them.

"I'll be damned." Emma muttered. The horse was in good shape, fat even. His white body was peppered with perfect, black ovals. His salt and pepper mane tumbled in a thick mess of leaves and burs down his neck.

"Can we keep it?"

"Gotta catch him first." Emma dismounted and tied Churchill's reins to the closest tree. She retrieved a length of rope and a piece of apple from her back pack and carefully approached the spotted horse.

Carl made a move to dismount, but Emma waved him off. "Stay up." She told him. "We don't know if this is a trap and I'd really like one of us to stay mounted."

Carl nodded, his hand returning to his weapon, his eyes looking out for trouble.

"Here pony." Emma said softly, moving slowly to avoid spooking the unfamiliar horse. "Nice pony. Want an apple?"

She needn't have bothered. The appaloosa walked right up to her as though she were an old friend. He gingerly nibbled the apple while Emma rubbed her hand along his neck. "Well, he's not wild. That's for sure."

"Does he belong to someone?"

She looked over the horse, his hooves needed trimming and he clearly hadn't been groomed in some time. There was a scar on his rump that looked like it had healed without human tending. "I think he's been on his own for a while." Emma tied the length of rope around the horse's head into a make-shift halter. "Come on, let's take you home."

-{O}-

Emma left Carl in the barn with Sal to tend to their new arrival. Spot, as they decided to call him, had been assigned the empty stall next to Black at the back of the barn.

"Never thought you were much of a hunter." Gordie fell into step beside her as she headed towards the kitchens.

"What are you talking about?"

"Brought in a nice fat horse, bigger than any deer Dixon's caught. I'm guessing horse will be on the menu for weeks." He slapped her on the back. "Good work."

She stopped in her tracks. "We're not going to eat Spot."

"Aw man, don't go naming it." Gordie whined.

She flicked her eyes to him, the corner of his mouth was turning up slightly. "You're so full of shit, Gordie." Emma rolled her eyes.

Gordie chuckled and nodded to Rick as he approached.

Rick waived Emma aside. "Emma, a word please?"

Her stomach dropped. "Is Daryl ok?"

Rick blinked. "Oh, sorry. No, it's not about Daryl. I wanted to know where you found the horse."

She let out a sigh of relief. Daryl wasn't due back for a few days yet, but she still worried. "He was near the orchard, not far from the traps there. It doesn't look like he's been tended in a while. I don't think anyone was with him, not for at least a few months."

"Okay. Good work bringing him in." Rick paused. "It is a him, right?"

"Yeah. Sal thinks he's about ten years old."

"If he's trained he'll be a good addition to the scouting team. Dolly's getting on."

Emma nodded. All the horses were getting a bit long in the tooth. New members of the herd were much appreciated. It would be good to find a breeding pair, but it didn't seem likely to happen. "I think Carl's quite taken with him. You should go say hi."

"Will do." Rick smiled. "How'd it go with Carl today?"

"He did well." Emma paused. "I'd take him out again. He wants to learn how to play bait, but I'm not sure he'll be ready come the spring herds." She shrugged. "I think with more lessons he could do it though."

The former sheriff nodded thoughtfully. "We'll see."

"See you at dinner?" She asked

"Yeah." Rick shook himself out of his reverie. "Daryl will be fine. He and Michonne will be back in a few days. Try not to worry too much."

Emma smiled, knowing that Rick was right. Still, she couldn't help but worry.

-{O}-

A day later Emma found herself looking forward to her shift on the wall. She usually regarded it as a tedious task, but it was more restful than her other responsibilities. After doing night-check on the horses the day before, she'd tossed and turned in her room for half the night.

She woke up exhausted, a feeling only exacerbated by a morning spent toiling in the stables.

Emma made her way up the staircase halting at the second landing to catch her breath. She'd found that if she took frequent breaks she could prevent the dizzy spells. Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths. She was late for watch, but it wouldn't do to pass out on the way up the stairs..

_This used to be easier. _Emma thought, tucking a loose strand behind her ear._ It's getting harder to keep up with my workload. _

When breathing normalized and she resumed her ascent. Reaching the top she squinted in the bright sunlight until her eyes found Maggie. She waved and headed over to the brunette.

"Hey Archer!" Maggie smiled, shifting the rifled slung across her shoulder. "Want me to bring lunch up to you?"

"I already grabbed something." Archer lied. She'd already vomited up breakfast and the idea of lunch turned her stomach unpleasantly.

Maggie nodded towards the treeline as Emma approached. "Thought maybe I saw smoke on the ridge." She handed Emma a pair of binoculars. "You might want to keep a watch out that way." She pointed south along the river.

"You'd better let the council know. We'll need to send someone out if we see it again."

Maggie nodded.

"Any walkers?" Emma asked.

"Nothing." Maggie shivered. "It's getting cold, they must be slowing down."

Emma nodded. "Never expected to be a winter-person."

Maggie snorted. "Never saw much snow back home." She shrugged. " things changed."

Emma nodded.

"Any sign of Daryl and Michonne?" Maggie asked, her eyes still on the horizon.

"No, but I wouldn't expect to see anything for a while yet." Emma pulled her scarf closer to her neck. "They should be back in a day or so. Longer if they find someone."

"Are they on the same route you found us on?"

Emma nodded, turning to look at Maggie. "The same one. Who knows, maybe they'll get lucky and wind up tied to a tree."

The corner of Maggie's mouth twisted up. "I think those two'd be a bit harder to pin down."

"True." Emma nodded. "Daryl prefers to do the tying."

Maggie giggled and cast Emma a wicked look. Emma blushed. " I... I didn't mean..."

Maggie waved a hand dismissively. "See you later."

Emma sighed, shaking her head and looking at the ground. _Whatever made me say that?_

-{O}-

Emma puffed her way through the late afternoon feeding in the stables. She was sweeping the aisle as the horses happily munching on their dinners.

**thunk thunk** _Well mostly happily. _Emma frowned at Churchill's pinned ears as he kicked the walls of his stall.

*thunk* The gelding wanted to remind his herdmates not to even _think _about touching his dinner.

Ignoring Churchill, Emma leaned on her broom to inspect their newest acquisition through the bars of his stall. Carl had spent several hours freeing Spot's mane and tail from burrs and Sal had carefully trimmed the gelding's hooves.

Overall, Spot was looking pretty respectable. For his part, Spot had happily accepted his place with Dolly at the bottom of the herd's pecking order and seemed to be settling in nicely.

Emma had been putting off the first test ride. She didn't feel up to riding an unfamiliar animal at the moment. _Soon. _She thought. _I'm sure I'll feel better soon._

Archer froze when she heard the swift footfalls draw close to the stable door. Someone was coming in at a run. That meant one of two things, an emergency or...

"Emma?" Maggie burst into the door, her face flushed with excitement. "They're back! Daryl and Michonne are back!"

Broom forgotten, Emma bolted for the door, hot on Maggie's heels. Together they ran down towards the main gate. Emma didn't stop when she saw Daryl, she just barreled right into his arms.

-{O}-


	3. Boyfriend's back

**CH 3: Boyfriend's back  
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Daryl wrapped his arms 'round his girl and tugged her close. He body wasn't as soft as it used to be. She was smaller. Daryl frowned, somethin' wasn't right. She'd been getting over being sick when he'd set out. He had expected her to be back to her fightin' weight when he returned. If anythin' she seemed smaller, and her color was still off. _Too creamy, not 'nough peach._

"You look like shit, Em." Daryl whispered in her ear as he burrowed his cheek into her hair. She still smelled the same at least.

He felt her stiffen I his arms. "Gee, thanks."

"Don't be like that." He sighed, hugging her closer. "I'm worried is all."

"How was it out there?" She was changin' the subject on him. _Damn,_ he thought, _something really is up._

He pulled back and held her at arms length. Daryl looked her over from boots to head. She didn't look him in the eye. _Something bad. _"Same as always. Walkers. Bush. Empty places."

She nodded, finally meeting his eye. "Sounds like it was okay then? No trouble?"

Daryl's mouth set in a grim line. "Yeah."

"Hunting good?"

"What's eatin' you?" He blurted it out. _Probably not the best idea._

"Sorry?" She blinked.

"Y' know what I mean, Em." He felt eyes on him, glancing up he saw Rick and Cap watching him. A few others too.

Grabbing his pack and shifting it onto his shoulder next to the crossbow, he reached for Emma's hand and tugged her along. "Come on."

_I ain't havin' this shit._ He thought. This wasn't the homecoming he'd had in mind and he didn't want to be gawked at right now. Somethin' wasn't right with Emma and he was going to find out what it was.

"Where are we going?" She asked, trailing along behind him.

"Our place." He scowled at Tyreese as they passed him. The big man's welcoming expression vanished and he cast Emma a questioning look.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the second story Em dug her feet in and pulled away. "What the hell Daryl?"

He spun on her with narrowed eyes. "You been eatin'? 'Cause you sure as hell don't look like it."

Emma's mouth opened and closed. She shifted her eyes away and back again. It was her goddamn tell. Whatever she was gonna say wouldn't be the truth. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Fuck it. Ya wanna talk 'bout this here or upstairs? 'Cause I'm gettin' tha truth outta you, either way." He reached for her again but his hand closed on air as she dodged him. He scowled at her. "Emma." He growled.

Emma shook her head. "You just got back, Daryl. Can't we just be happy that we're together?"

He crossed his arms. "What's goin' on, Em."

"Nothing really. I'm just..." She shook her head like she was trying to shake loose a fly.

"Don't lie ta me, Em." He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his eyes.

"Don't start this... Whatever. I'm ok. I'm just tired and... " she sighed. "... I ..." Her eyes closed, her hand went back up to her head, it looked shaky.

He reached out and snatched her trembling hand in his own. It was cold. "Fuck." He spat. "Ya ain't right."

"I'm..." Her breath was shaky. "I just need to rest."

_Shit. Stop bein' a dick._ She really did look awful. He reached over and cupped her face in his hands, tilting her hear up. "Ok." His voice was soft. "Come on then."

She relaxed, a look of relief appeared on her face. Emma let him lead her up to their room.

-{O}-

"Hey." Daryl nuzzled her neck, she felt his breath on her ear. "Wake up sleepyhead."

Emma sighed happily, wiggling her back into the warmth of his body. She'd spent too many sleepless nights alone in their bed. It was so nice to have him back.

"Serious." His hand was on her shoulder, shaking her gently. "Gotta get up."

"Mmph." Emma was feeling very non-verbal. This was the first good rest she'd had since Daryl had set out.

"C'mon." Daryl peeled the blankets off her body.

She squeaked. "It's cold!" her eyes flew open. "Why are you torturing me?" Her bleary eyes cleared and she saw that Daryl was fully dressed. She frowned. "What time is it?"

"'bout an hour after you usually wake up." Daryl said casually as he got up and headed to the door.

"The horses!" Emma jumped out of bed a little too fast. She swayed on her feet, stumbling forwards to steady herself on the back of a chair. _Sal's going to be pissed if he gets to the barn before me and the horses are still in._

"You're usually up 'fore me." Daryl looked back over his shoulder at her as he tugged on a boot. "Everything okay?"

_Churchill must be tearing the goddamn barn down by now_. Emma nodded. "Yeah, I guess…" She blushed. "I just sleep better with you around." She'd never been this late before. Emma was always up at the crack of dawn.

Daryl chuckled slinging his crossbow over his shoulder, he leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. "Missed you too."

"Hunting this morning?" Emma dragged on the first pair of breeches she could find, aware that Daryl was watching her with a wicked grin. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Mmhm. See what I can bring in before the snow hits." He headed towards the door, stopping to give her an appreciative look as she removed the tank top she slept in. "Be back by noon. You gonna be here?"

She dragged a clean sweater over her head. "I'm checking the traps around Cherry House. I should be back by early afternoon…"

"Goin' alone?"

"Michael's coming too."

Daryl nodded. "Tell him to bring his rifle. They're slow but they're not frozen." He headed out the door, pausing to give her one last warning. "Be careful."

"Yessir." She snarked as he closed the door.

"I mean it." She heard him call as he walked away.

-{O}-

"That's just plain gross, horse." Michael surveyed the severed arm Churchill was carrying in his mouth as they rode back from Cherry House. The gelding had taken it off a walker that he had discovered rotting behind a fallen log. "It's just wrong."

Emma shrugged. "Just be glad it's not your arm." She'd dispatched the legless corpse with the staff she carried, crushing its skull. "Where do you think it came from anyway?" She turned in the saddle to look at Michael who rode directly behind her. "I haven't seen him around here before and it's not like he could travel fast."

"It's not new." Michael checked the sights on one of the hand guns he carried as Tank trundled along behind Churchill. "Too rotted. My guess is it had been crawling through those brambly bushes for a while. Probably too low to the ground for anyone to notice."

Emma cringed, wiggling the toes on her left foot. She'd once walked into some tall grass and stumbled on a crawler. It had tried to take a chunk out of her heel. Luckily her boot had protected her. No amount of polishing could remove the scuff mark from its bite. "Still… He must have survived the initial onslaught…"

"I guess.." Micheal set the gun back into its holster. "He couldn't have been killed by more than two of them. One wouldn't have eaten off both his legs, two maybe three… four or more and there wouldn't have been any part of him left."

"The highway's not too far from here." She nodded her head towards the west. "He could have died in a car crash, that could have explained the loss."

"Maybe" He shrugged "We don't really know much about how they decompose."

She turned back in the saddle, returning her attention to the trail. Churchill, reaching for a leafy fern, finally discarded the arm. Archer heard a crunch as the limb was trampled by Tank.

"It's a lot quieter than it was this time last year." Emma remarked. _Maybe things are getting better,_ she thought. _If I am… pregnant. It might be okay…_

"Last winter was bad. We froze good and solid for four months."

"Is it possible.." Emma wondered aloud as she mentally calculated the numbers of walkers taken out in the past year.

"What?" Michael pulled Tank's head back as the mare grabbed at a fern. "It's not a buffet." He chastised his mount under his breath.

"Are we seeing the end of this thing?"

"No." Michael's answer was swift and certain. "Nowhere near it."

"What makes you think that?"

"We took out more this year than we did last year." Michael trotted Tank up beside Churchill.

"Yeah, but there are more of us."

"No, I mean, per person. We took out more per person this year than last year."

It sounded like a good thing to her, but she got the sense that Michael didn't share her enthusiasm. "So?"

"So, that means that we're getting better at taking them out, but there's more of them coming."

Sometimes she hated Michael and his damn logic. "So.. Not good?"

"I'm not sure exactly…" Michael hedged. "..but I don't think so. I mean, based on the infection rate and the number of kills we've had… I don't think we have made much of a dent."

"Oh." Emma frowned. "It just seemed like things were better."

Michael sidled Tank closer, reaching out he took Archer's hand in his own. "Hey." She looked up into his grey eyes. "Things are better. We're together. We've each found good men that love us. We have food, shelter, friends… We're doing well, Emma."

She looked down at Churchill's neck and experienced a brief moment of vertigo. "I know."

Michael frowned. "What's eating you these days?"

Emma shook her head. "I dunno."

Michael nodded. "Well, I'm here when you figure it out."

They rode the rest of the way back to the fort in silence as Emma contemplated the challenges of keeping a small, defenseless child safe in this world.

-{O}-


	4. Cats 'n bags

**Ch 4: Cats 'n Bags**

Daryl watched as Emma loosened Churchill's girth. When she was done, it looked to him like she leaned on the big beast for a moment. He lips drew tight. _She ain't right._

Emma looked up and met his eyes. She sent him a weak smile, he frowned back. He was doing a lot o' that lately. Emma's face fell under his gaze, her eyes drifting down to her boots.

"Shit." Daryl muttered, turning away from her and scratching the back of his head.

"What's that?" Rick looked up from the conversation he was having with Michonne. Both of them were looking at him expectantly.

Michonne's eyes flicked over his shoulder to Emma. "She going out?"

"Comin' back." Daryl shrugged. "She and Michael were checkin' traps."

Rick walked over and slapped a hand on his shoulder. "From the look on your face I'd swear she was heading out."

Daryl ran a hand over his face. "She ain't right, Rick."

"Emma?" Rick stood beside him and they watched Emma lead Churchill out. "You two have a fight?"

Daryl shook his head and looked away. "S'not that."

"She's lost weight." Michonne offered. When Rick gave her a puzzled look she shrugged. "Seen her in the showers. She's ribby. She didn't used to be."

"Joel say anything?" Rick asked. "She over the food poisoning?"

"She pukes her guts out ev'ry morning." Daryl admitted. He'd checked up on her a few times when she wasn't looking. "Don't eat much else after that."

"In the morning?" Rick's eyes got wide.

Michonne exchanged a look with Rick. "She tired a lot?"

Daryl froze. "Yeah."

"She's pretty pale..." Michonne commented.

Rick nodded. "Yeah."

"I'll talk to Joel." Michonne turned and headed off to the wall where the fort's doctor was on watch.

Daryl cursed. "The fuck is goin' on?"

Rick smiled like a goddamn Cheshire Cat and shook his head. "Not for me to say."

"Screw this." Daryl turned on his heel and stormed towards the barn. 

-{O}-

"EMMA? EMMA!"

Archer winced at the gruffness of Daryl's voice. For a second she seriously debated hiding in the tack room. _He'd just find me._ With a sigh she deposited Churchill's saddle on its rack.

Daryl must have heard her because he turned the corner into the tack room with a glower on his face. "Em. Why didn't ya answer me?"

Emma stood still, her hand on the cantle of the saddle. Little spots swam in front of her eyes, she shook her head trying to clear her vision. "Why are you so angry with me?" The words tumbled out before she could think.

"Fuck." Daryl kicked a bucket on the floor and sent it sprawling.

Emma startled at the sound and stepped backwards away from the saddle. Her heart started racing, and she couldn't slow it. "Please..." She whispered, the spots in her eyes were getting bigger. "Please don't hate me now..."

"The fuck is wrong, Emma? Don't you fuckin' lie ta me!"

She looked up but couldn't really see him. The world was closing in on her. "Daryl?"

Emma's knees crumpled underneath her and she vanished into darkness.

-{O}-

"...JOEL!"

Emma's head jostled up and down. She wondered idly who was shaking her.

"JOEL!" Daryl was yelling.

"What happened?" She heard Joel pant as his footsteps neared.

"Dunno, just fainted."

"Set her down." Joel's doctor voice ordered. Emma tried opening her eyes but her world was spinning too fast. She could feel cold rock on her back. Daryl had put her down, he must have been carrying her. "Did she hit her head?"

"Caught her 'fore she hit." Daryl's voice was strained. "What's wrong?"

Bright light flashed in her eye as Joel pulled her eyelid back. She winced. "Emma? Talk to me."

"I.." Her voice was shaky but she was able to look up. The world was still spinning, but it was slowing down. "...dizzy."

Daryl's face appeared before her eyes, relief on his face. "Jesus Christ Emma! What the fuck is goin' on?"

"Daryl." Joel scowled at her lover. "Now's not the time." He turned his cognac colored eyes back to Emma. "Can you sit up?"

The world has stopped spinning and Emma found the strength to nod. With e doctor's help she sat up and leaned against him. Daryl was pacing a few steps away. A crowd had gathered.

"Is Archer ok?" William, Sheila's eldest boy asked.

"Yeah, she'll be fine." Joel smiled at him. "Nothing to worry about."

"She's not fuckin' okay!" Daryl roared. "You don't goddamn get that skinny and be okay."

"Daryl..." Emma started but Joel cut her off, wrapping a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

Joel's eyes flicked over Daryl's shoulder to where Rick had appeared. "Daryl you need to calm down."

Daryl looked back at Rick. "She's my goddamn woman and I oughta know what the fuck you're not telling me."

"...pregnant..." Emma pushed the words out before she could stop herself. It came out just above a whisper, and she felt Joel stiffen at the words. "I think... I might be... pregnant. I don't know..."

The last part was loud enough for Daryl to hear. His head snapped around. He stared at her, mouth agape with an expression of horror on his face.

Emma closed her eyes and leaned into Joel's shoulder. She raised her hand to cover her face and hide the tears that were starting to spill from her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Joel scooped her up into his arms and stood. "Come on, we'll talk more after you've rested."

"Shit." It was the last thing she heard Daryl say as Joel carried her off.

-{O}-


	5. Piddle sticks

**Ch 5:****Piddle sticks**

"Fuck me." Daryl leaned against the fortress wall. Rick had dragged him into the area in the dry moat where their shooting range was set up. He closed his eyes, knocking his head on the wall behind him. _Shit shit shit..._

"It's not a bad thing, Daryl."

"How tha fuck can you say that after Lori." He stood up and started pacing along the wall, opening and closing his hands. Needing SOMETHIN' to do.

Rick's face had a sad smile. "That was bad timing." He sighed, walking over to sit on one of the straw bales at the back of the range. He stretched his legs out in front of him and looked up at the sky. "If she'd been with Hershel she'd have been ok. Might even have had a shot with Carol..." He shook his head. "We have a real doctor here and a secure place."

"For now..." Daryl scowled. "We thought the prison was safe. You know how that ended up."

Rick's face was grim. "We learned from that. We won't make the same mistakes here."

"We use condoms, Rick. Every fuckin' time. How the fuck did she get knocked up?"

Rick shrugged. "It happens. Condoms break. They're not guaranteed." He paused and cast him a sideways glance. "You're not thinking she's been with someone else, are you?"

Daryl stopped pacing. _Fuck. Emma with someone else_? He'd kill the bastard. _Fuckin' dead man._ "Naw." He decided. Emma wasn't like that.

"I didn't think so."

"She could die." Daryl kicked one of the bales. "She could fuckin' die and there's not a goddamn thing I can do about it."

"Daryl most women don't die in childbirth. Emma's going to be okay."

"I'm no good, Rick." Daryl admitted, thinking of the example set by his own pa. "I can't be some kid's dad."

Rick smiled. "You'll do fine. You've always been good with Judith. You took care of her when I couldn't. Got her formula, diapers, toys... Anything she needed."

"That's different." Daryl thought. Goddamn whole Dixon family was a fuckin' mess. He didn't want to pass those genes on.

"No, it isn't." Rick ran a hand over his beard. "Look, being a father isn't easy. Especially the first time out. It's terrifying. You can plan and prepare for it, but bottom line-you're never ready. The baby comes when it wants to and not necessarily when it's convenient."

Daryl looked at his friend through his bangs. "Ain't you all sunshine and rainbows."

Rick chuckled. "It doesn't matter though. When you hold that baby, that little life that's half you and half her, you forget all about it. You discover a whole new kind of love. One you didn't know existed because until that moment, it didn't".

"I don't work like that." Daryl sat down on the grass next to his friend. "I can't..."

"You love Emma." It was a statement, not a question.

Daryl didn't answer. He didn't need to. Emma was in his bones, she was a part of him.

"Did you ever think you'd love a woman like that?"

Daryl bit his thumb, remembering the first time he laid eyes on Emma. He'd gone out to catch the "tail" that had been following them. He had nearly missed her too. Her breeches and coat blended in so well with the fall foliage. He'd been surprised as hell to find out it was a woman following them. Even more surprised when she turned out to be alone and armed only with a coupl'a knives.

She was fuckin' fearless too. Talkin' back when she shoulda been beggin' for her life. Refusin' to say why she was out there in the first place. Woman had moxy.

"Never goddamn saw Emma comin'."

"You'll do just fine." Rick placed a hand on his shoulder. "You and Emma will be good parents."

-{O}-

"Are you sure?" Emma asked, looking from Joel to Michael in the infirmary. "Maybe we should do another test. What if they've expired?"

"You've peed on four sticks already, Em." Joel sighed. "You're not pregnant. It's something else."

Emma sagged back against the pillows of the cot. "What is it then? Why can't I eat?"

"Food poisoning?" Michael asked, wincing a little. The bout that had gone through the camp had been pretty nasty.

Joel stared out into space and shook his head. "No. It's not likely. No one else has it. It's something else… A food allergy?"

"Would that come out of the blue? I haven't been eating anything new." Emma frowned.

Joel stroked his chin. "Well, it would be the simplest explanation." He quizzed Emma on her eating habits, or lack thereof in this case and jotted it down. Satisfied that he had what he wanted, Joel stood. "I'm going to look into this. In the meantime you eat nothing but rice and apple sauce. I'll bring it up."

Emma made a face, her stomach churned uneasily at the thought of food. Joel frowned at her. "You have to eat."

She shrugged and looked down at her hands. A soft knock at the door alerted them to Daryl's presence. He entered the room slowly as if expecting to be kicked out.

"Hey." Daryl's voice was soft.

-{O}-

Joel raised a questioning eyebrow at him when he walked into the room. "You going to behave?"

_Shit._ Daryl knew he had earned that. He looked the doc in the eyes and nodded. Ignoring the daggers Michael was throwing with his eyes from Emma's bedside. Emma's didn't meet gaze. That was a bad sign. _Double Shit._

"Come on loverboy. Let's give these two some privacy." Joel held the door open waiting for Michael to follow.

Michael put a hand on Emma's shoulder. "You going to be okay?"

Daryl frowned when Emma didn't respond right away. Before he could say anything, she nodded. Michael gathered up his crutches, shooting him one more dirty look before disappearing out the door with Joel.

_Say something, ya chicken shit._ Daryl stood at the bottom of Emma's bed, shifting to one foot from the other. "How?"

She didn't look him in the eye. "The condom broke."

"When?"

"Right after I got you back." Her eyes raised up to meet his, there were dark circles under them. She looked goddamn exhausted. "I'm not, though. We did the test. I'm not pregnant."

_Fuck yes!... Shit... Aw hell..._ Daryl let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

Emma shot him a dirty look. "You're relieved."

Daryl bit his thumb. "Yeah, a bit."

Emma put her head in her hands, he had a feelin' she was crying. He fuckin' hated when she cried.

"Shit, Emma. I'm no good at this."

She shook her head but didn't respond. Emma looked so goddamn frail.

Sighing again, he sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand in his. She looked away. "Hey. Look at me." Reaching up he held her chin in his hand and turned her to him. Her eyes swept up to his face. They looked so hollow.

He frowned. "Damnit Em. I'm just worried is all. Rick's wife, Lori... She didn't survive lil'Asskicker. I..." He closed his eyes. "I didn't want ta loose you like that..." He paused. "Or any way... No goin' anywhere on me. 'Kay?"

She closed her eyes and sighed. He pulled her into his chest, and rested his head above hers. "How long you been sick?"

"Since we all had food poisoning. I was okay for a few days, but then..."

"Puke up yer breakfast in the stalls ev'ry day."

She pulled away and looked up at him. "You knew?"

He shrugged, not wanting to admit he'd gone stalker on her. "Was worried. Knew you weren't right. Off yer feed 'n all." He pulled her back into his chest, this time she sagged against him.

"I'm sorry. I was worried you'd be mad."

"Mad?" He hugged her tightly.

She stiffened a little in his arms. "We never talked about having kids... We haven't talked about anything like that."

To soothe her, he ran his fingers through her long locks. God he loved doing that. She relaxed a little in his arms. _Atta girl._ "Didn't think there was anythin' to talk 'bout. Yer mine, preggers or no. I ain't going nowhere. If you get knocked up, we'll deal."

"We'll deal?" She sounded bitter, it made him cringe.

"Shit, Em. S'not what I meant." He kissed the top of her head, breathing in her familiar smell. "I'm shit at this stuff and you know it." He sighed, _fuckin' hell_. How was he s'pose ta fix this? "I just never thought 'bout kids. Didn't much care for my own parents. Don't know how to be someone's pa."

"What if it happens?" She whispered into his chest, her hands grabbing a fistful of his shirt. "What then?"

"Well... Damnit Emma I'd worry. Least until the kid was born. Then..." _Shit._ Him a Dad? _Damn._ He didn't know what he'd do. "Guess I'd better teach our little ass kicker ta shoot so he can help take care of his momma."

She chuckled softly, the stiffness leaving her back. _Atta girl. Come ta Daryl._ "What if it's a girl?"

"Shit." _Oh Jesus fucking Christ._ A girl? "Well, I guess I'll be getting into a shit-load more fist fights."

"Fights?" Emma's head tilted up to look at him. Her eyes were still sunken, but there was a bit of the old sparkle in there.

"If she looks anything like her momma, guys'll be lining up."

A smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. She kissed him on the underside of his chin. _Goddamn it was nice_. He hugged her closer, pulling her into his lap. She was far too light. "Now we gotta get you better. We may not be plannin' on havin' kids but I sure do plan on practicin'."

She chuckled a bit at that, her eyes closing. "I'm just so damn tired."

"I know." He took a deep breath. "I gotcha. You sleep. I'll keep watch."

She drifted off right quick. He held her until her breathing was slow and deep. When he was sure she was out, he laid her back down on the mattress, tucking the sheets in around her tightly. She mumbled something in her sleep. He wasn't sure what it was. Something about Murphy? He couldn't be sure.

He leaned back in a chair, watching her brow furrow. She didn't have many nightmares these days, but they always surfaced when she was sick. In the week before he'd left on circuit, she'd talked quite a bit in her sleep. _Names mostly... _

The door opened and Joel stepped in. "Our girl's asleep?" He asked, setting a bowl of rice down on his desk.

Daryl nodded. "She's tired. All hollowed out."

"I gave her some gravol earlier. She's keeping water down at least." Joel came over and placed two fingers on Emma's neck. He looked at his watch.

Daryl waited until the doctor finished checking her pulse. "What's wrong with her? Why's she so weak?"

"Starvation. It's why she missed her period." Joel sat down on the next cot over. "She stays here and we track everything she eats, keep her loaded with gravol until she puts some weight back on."

_A plan, Halle-freakin-lujah._ Finally, something he could work with. Emma moaned in her sleep, he heard her mention 'Trapper'. Daryl's hand smoothed her hair on her head and she settled some.

"Still having those dreams eh?" Joel sighed. "I'd hoped she got past 'em."

"Off and on." Daryl admitted. "Trapper was someone here right? Seen his grave out back."

"Yeah. He was a hunter, like you."

Daryl frowned, "Old guy, right?"

Joel's eye twinkled. "Worried about competition?"

"Naw." Daryl looked down at Emma, she'd stopped mumbling and settled. She looked peaceful at last. "He got bit right?"

Joel nodded. "She told you about that?"

Daryl searched his memory. "A little."

The doc inclined his head towards Emma. "When she wakes up, feed her this rice, about half of it. She keeps that down, feed her the other half twenty minutes later."

He nodded, glad to have something to do for his girl other than make her sad. Seems lately he'd just hurt her every time he opened his mouth.

Joel stood. "I'm going to solve this puzzle, Daryl. She'll be alright."

-{O}-


	6. Feeding programs

CH 6: Feeding programs

A few days later Daryl walked into the infirmary after his watch to find Emma laying on her stomach in her cot. She was reading one of the medical books Joel had given her.

Emma'd been studyin' up on her first aid since he'd been caught two months ago.

Her head was propped up on her elbows, giving him a good view of her breasts pressed up by the mattress. Her eyes flicked up from the book, her loose hair tumbling down over one shoulder. _Damn._ If it wasn't for the hollows in her cheeks he'd a made a move on her.

Instead, he just nodded and went to sit next to her on the bunk. His traitorous hand coming to rest on her ass. "You a doctor yet?" He teased.

She snorted. "I just don't have the mind for it. I'm really just aiming for 'patch up the worst of it so that you can get to Joel' level stuff."

"You and Churchill gonna run an ambulance service?" His hand started stroking up and down her back. Her nose was still in the book. She didn't notice him frown when he felt the ribs under her shirt.

"Church is more of a damage-inflicting kind of horse." She lifted her head up. "Black maybe... He's fast, we could get to someone quickly. Dolly's pulled wagons before. She could be trained to drag a litter..."

_She never goddamn stops_, Daryl thought. Emma was always on the move, gettin' shit done, lending a helping hand wherever she could. He'd loved that about her but now... Now he was worried. She'd nearly run herself into the ground. "Gotta stop this." His voice was low, the words came out before he'd thought about it.

She looked over her shoulder at him. "Stop what?"

"Don't gotta run so hard, Em." He reached over and pulled the book out from under her nose.

"I'm not running." She rolled onto her back and stared up and the ceiling, her hands folded across her stomach.

"You know what I mean." He set the book down and stretched out next to her. Daryl snaked an arm under his woman, pulling her into his chest. He took a deep breath, the scent of her filled his nose. _Sooooo nice..._ His Emma smelled good. _Like home._

She sighed but kept quiet. Too quiet. Emma wasn't the overly chatty type, but he hated when she silent. Meant she was thinking 'bout something. "What?" He asked.

"I just don't know what else to do." She whispered. "I just have to keep moving."

"Not moving now, are ya?" He began stroking her back again.

"No."

Daryl smirked when he felt her body relax. _Yeah baby, come ta Daryl..._ "Atta girl. See? It ain't so hard."

He felt her smile against the side of his chest, her fingers tangled up in his shirt. "You make time stand still."

"I do?" _The fuck did she mean by that?_

"Mmm hmm. Warm too."

Well that bit he could understand. His woman hated being cold...more 'n once she'd woken him after comin' off watch by curling her cold body around his. "Leech."

He could tell by her breathing she was asleep. Daryl didn't have a particular place to be at the moment. He'd been assigned kitchen duty for dinner, but he had a few hours 'til then. Closing his eyes, Daryl let the world slip away.

-{O}-

It had been a week since Emma'd fainted and Joel had finally agreed to release her from the infirmary. She was sitting at her usual spot in the mess hall staring at the bowl of rice Joel placed in front of her. Emma poked at it idly with her fork. "It's the end of civilization as we know it, but somehow hospital food still exists." She muttered.

Daryl snorted, but didn't look up from his own plate. Joel sat across from her at the dinner table and feigned a look of horror. "Didn't you notice that I lumped it into the bowl in a horse shoe shape?"

"It's the same thing I eat four times a day." She rolled her eyes. These days she felt like horse on a feeding program. She was fed on a regimented schedule breakfast, lunch, dinner and second dinner.

"That's not true." Joel munched on a carrot across from her as she stared enviously at his plate. "Lunch was rice in a smiley face shape."

Emma rolled her eyes. The condition of her release from the infirmary was that she only eat what Joel brought her. Someone, usually Daryl, would scowl at her until she finished, then report back to Joel. He kept track of everything she ate and drank in a little yellow book he carried in his pocket.

"Can't I eat something else? I haven't puked in days!"

Daryl elbowed her. "Eat."

"No." She was feeling petulant.

Daryl caught her eye. "Em." It was a warning.

"I'm not hungry."

"Don't care." Daryl turned to face her. "Goddamn eat, Emma."

"No." Emma turned to get up, but Daryl's hand snaked around her waist and pulled her back down.

"You really wanna play this out?" Daryl fixed her with a steely look. "You're gonna eat, Em, or swear to God I'll take you over my knee and smack your ass."

Emma cast a look over Daryl's shoulder. People were staring. "You wouldn't."

His mouth twitched up. "Try me."

_Shit. He would._ He would spank her in front of everyone.

She picked up her fork and began eating.

-{O}-

Emma was pissed.

Daryl knew that shit he pulled with her wouldn't blow the fuck over. He was just grateful it had worked. He was worried she'd call his bluff.

It wasn't that he was afraid to spank her. _Shit._ He'd enjoy getting his hand on her sweet ass. He hadn't been laid since he came back and he was hornier than hell.

He just wasn't sure he wanted the whole fuckin' fort watching.

Daryl tucked into his own plate, keepin' watch on her outta the corner of his eye. Em was shoveling food into her mouth with a scowl on her face. _Yep. Not gonna blow over_. He'd hear about this 'fore the night was out.

It wasn't the night he had planned either. It was s'pose to be her first night back in their bed. He'd planned on getting in her panties before leaving for the late watch.

Emma finished her rice. "Happy now?"

He didn't bother looking up. "You gonna puke?"

Although Daryl didn't see it, he was pretty sure she rolled her eyes. She stood up from the table, dumped her dishes off for cleaning and stormed out of the mess hall.

_Well fuck that._ He'd switch watches with someone on the graveyard night shift. With any luck, Emma'd be asleep before he got back.

Daryl looked up to see Joel shrug. "She'll be fine." The doctor said. "It's been a week, whatever was making her sick ought to be out of her system now. I'll add to her diet tomorrow."

"She won't be happy until she goes back onto the work lists." Michael asked.

"I can't have her passing out somewhere we won't find her." Joel sighed. "Maybe something light with other people. Kitchen duty?"

"Right." Michael said dryly. "Have her prepare food she can't eat?"

"Stick her on leather and mending." Daryl knew those were jobs she could do sitting still.

"Good idea." Joel nodded "I'll talk to Cap."

Daryl finished his own plate slowly. Maybe if Emma had something to do she'd forget about being mad at him. He pursed his lips.

_Not bloody likely._

-{O}-


	7. Restless

**Ch 7: Restless**

Emma couldn't sleep.

Daryl had switched onto the later watch and hadn't bothered telling her. She'd found out second hand. Unable to sleep, she'd been trying to read the medical books Joel had loaned her, but the information wasn't sticking. Her mind was just too restless.

_Too much time doing nothing,_ she thought. It had thrown her off. Day was night and night was day. Emma decided that she needed was some physical activity to tire her out and get her mind off being annoyed at Daryl.

In the end, she'd pulled a coat over her pyjamas, slipped into her paddock boots and gone down to the stables. Once there, she set about giving a sleepy Churchill a full grooming. When she was done with him, she moved on to their latest acquisition, Spot.

She was sweeping up when Daryl burst into the barn.

"What the fuck, Emma?"

"Nice to see you too, Daryl." She muttered, not looking up from her sweeping.

"You got any goddamn idea what time it is?" Daryl snatched the broom out of her hand.

"Hey!"

"You. Bed. Now."

"I'm not tired." She lied. Truth be told, she was feeling a bit weak. She probably should have stopped with Churchill.

Daryl grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her against him. "I'm serious, Em."

She tried to pull away, but Daryl backed her up against the stone wall. "Let me go, Daryl."

He pressed his body into her, pinning her there. "Or what? You'll faint on me?"

Emma frowned, she did feel a slight wobble in the knees but was not in the mood to admit it.

Daryl didn't wait for her to answer. He took her face in her hands. "You need rest, woman."

"You're not my keeper." She slapped his hands away. "Don't tell me what to do, Daryl."

He smirked, grasping her hands in his and pinning them up above her head. "You're not tired?" He leaned down and ran his stubbled chin against the exposed skin on her neck. "Maybe we gotta tire you out."

"Daryl..." She warned. Her breath hitched as he nipped her neck, eliciting a chuckle.

Daryl shifted his grip so he could hold her wrists on one hand, the other he trailed leisurely down her side to her hip. "Been a long time." He purred. "I want you."

Emma jumped as his free hand dug past her coat and shirt, finding the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. "What are you doing?" She hissed. "Someone could walk in!"

Daryl dragged her pants down her hips, letting them puddle at her ankles. He snaked his cold fingers inside her panties. She jumped at the contact. "It's one in the morning." Daryl explained calmly as his fingers started to stroke her. "Ain't nobody comin' by."

The cool air on her exposed legs made her shiver. Emma tried to squirm away, but Daryl pressed her harder against the wall. He slid a finger up inside her, causing her to gasp.

Daryl was right, it had been a long time.

Sensing her acquiescence, Daryl released his hold on her wrists and started kissing his way down her neck. He unzipped her coat as he sank down onto his knees in front of her. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and placed a kiss on her mound. "If yer not tired now," he licked her folds and cast her a wicked grin. "you will be when I'm done."

Emma threw her head back and arched into Daryl as he plundered her with his tongue. She tangled her hands in his hair and tried unsuccessfully to stifle her moaning by biting her lip.

_Oh God._ She'd forgotten what Daryl could do. Forgotten how he could make her feel. _Wanton._ That was the only word for it.

She shuddered when her orgasm came, sliding down the wall into Daryl's arms. He chuckled as he pulled her into his lap. "Still pissed?" He whispered.

"Huh?" Emma didn't bother opening her eyes as Daryl lifted her up.

"Didn't think so." Daryl grunted. "Well I still am."

Emma found herself unceremoniously deposited on a pile of hay. "What?" Her eyes flew open to find Daryl standing over her with arms crossed.

"I ain't your fuckin' nursemaid." He said, his voice projecting a calm his eyes didn't share. "I ain't your fuckin' warden either."

"What are you taking about?" Emma tried to stand, only to find herself pushed back down onto the hay, its scratchy texture rubbing her bare ass.

"Goddamnit Emma. You gotta take care of yourself." Daryl ran a hand through his hair. "I can't be worried 'bout you when I leave. I gotta know you'll be in once piece when I get back."

Shamefaced, she cast her eyes down.

"Aw fuck." Daryl unbuckled his belt and undid his fly. "Turn over."

"What?" Emma looked up and resisted the urge to lick her lips. Daryl was hard for her and she wanted him. Badly.

"Turn the fuck over, Emma." He stroked his cock. "Take off your coat. I want you naked when I screw your brains out."

_Ooohhh._

The minute her clothes hit the floor, Daryl rolled her onto her front on her hands and knees. He lay down over her back forcing her to support his weight. His hands cupped her breasts as he whispered in her ear. "Why is it that you trust me here?" His hands roamed down to her sex, fondling her. "But ya won't tell me what's in your head?"

"I..." Daryl's hands were too distracting. "It's..."

He spread her legs wider with his knees, ripping open a condom. "You're thinkin' too much." He entered her with such force she collapsed onto her elbows.

"Oh God." She mewled as he teased her clitoris with his fingers.

When she tried to rock against him, he seized her hips. "You don't get ta move. If you won't take care of yourself, y'don't get to drive."

He leaned over her, kissing the back of her neck. "You're so wet. So ready, aren't ya?"

"Please.." Emma felt so full she thought she would burst.

"Please what?" One of his hands moved to tease her nipple. "What do you want, Emma?"

"More. Oh God, please more."

He pulled out of her deliciously slowly, re entering with another hard thrust. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

Emma nodded, her body was as tight as a bowstring. Words were beyond her now.

"Promise me." He pinched one of her nipples hard, making her jump. "Promise me you'll tell me if something ain't right."

She nodded. He circled her clitoris with calloused fingers, eliciting a moan.

"Say it." He growled.

"I promise!"

That earned her another thrust. "If I ain't here, promise me you'll take care of yourself."

"I promise." Emma had one card to play. "Just fuck me, Daryl. Fuck me hard." He loved it when she swore.

"Atta girl." Daryl began thrusting hard and fast. His hands holding her hips steady. The sound of their thighs colliding together echoed off the walls of the stable.

_Slap. Slap. Slap._

Emma didn't care if anyone overheard. "Yes! Yes!" She urged him on. Her heart raced faster and faster as her climax neared. She could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing except Daryl's attack on her sex. His hands spreading her wider, pulling her in more fiercely than she thought possible.

When her climax racked her body the world completely closed in around her.

-{O}-

Daryl was cradling Emma in his arms when her she came to. He brushed his fingers through her hair. "Hey." He chuckled. "You tired now?"

"Mph." She closed her eyes, nuzzling into his shoulder. He'd wrapped her up in a wool horse blanket that had been hanging over an empty stall.

"Yeah. Thought so." Daryl hugged her closer to his chest. He'd ridden her so hard she's goddamn fainted on him. Daryl felt oddly proud of that. _Little ashamed too. Damn._

Emma's breathing shifted, looking down he saw she was asleep. _'Bout time._ He thought. He'd come off watch to find their room empty. Thinking she'd been pissed at him, he'd gone to the infirmary to see if she'd decided to sleep there instead. When he found it empty he'd started to worry. For a moment, he even wondered if she'd run out on him.

When he'd seen the light coming out from the cracks in the barn door he decided to check it out. He'd been pissed to see her mucking about in there when she should have been resting.

Soon as he laid eyes on her, he'd known she'd been thinkin' too much. She'd worried over bullshit in her head for too long.

The only way he knew how to stop her wheels from spinning was with his cock.

He'd taken her from behind to stop himself from coming too fast. Looking down on her ribby back had only made him madder. He'd been rougher on her that he meant to.

Gathering her clothes up, he carried Emma back to their rooms. It was easier than it should have been. _At least she's keepin' food down now._

He tucked her into the bed and lay down beside her, one arm draped over her hip. Closing his eyes he breathed in the smell of her. It always settled him.

-{O}-


	8. Doctor's orders

**CH 8: Doctor's Orders**

"How's Emma?" Rick asked casually as he and Daryl walked back from mending the pikes lines around the fort the next day.

"Better." Daryl had been happy to see Emma still soundly asleep when he set out to do his morning chores.

"Good to hear it. Joel figure out what was making her sick?"

Daryl shrugged. "Naw. Says it'll take time."

"I'm sure he'll sort it out."

"Not sure I can wait. Emma's antsy t'get back to things."

Rick nodded. "She told me once she had a hard time doing nothing."

"Gotta get shit done."

"How you holding out?" Rick waved to Tyreese on the wall as they entered the gates of the fortress.

Daryl had to think about that. "Fine." _Better than I have in days._ God, he'd needed to get laid as much as her. The tension he hadn't realized was there had gone.

As they entered the parade square he could see Emma pacing on the second level walkway. "Shit." He muttered.

"What is it?" Rick followed his eyeline to Emma. "Something's wrong."

Emma kicked at something, it fell over with a bang. Daryl frowned. _Not good._

Rick gestured to Daryl to hand over his tools. "Go. I'll put this away."

"Thanks." He handed over his gear to his friend and strode across the square. _Whatever this is, we'll deal._ He thought.

"I don't get it." Emma's voice drifted down the stairwell as he climbed the steps in twos. "I've eaten that a million times since coming here."

"I don't know." Daryl reached the top of the stairs to see Michael sitting on a chair across from Emma. He was holding a bucket.

_Shit._

"Been sick again?" Daryl asked. Emma covered her mouth quickly, Michael shoved the pail into her hands as she started heaving.

"Joel gave her some of Sheila's-take-what-you-want special." Michael frowned. "It's what's coming up now."

Daryl crossed the floor to Emma and circled his arms around her waist. He pulled her hair away from her face as she panted over the bucked. "Easy now." He whispered. "It's okay."

"It's not okay." Emma sobbed. "I can't live off stale rice forever. Our stores are getting low and we can't grow it."

"Shhh." Daryl soothed. "We got this." He looked up and mouthed "Joel?" To Michael.

Michael made it clear that Joel was looking into things

"'Kay, let's get you to bed, Em."

"No, " She shook her head. "I don't want the room to smell like vomit. I'm tired of smelling like puke."

"Stay here." Michael hauled himself to his feet. "I'll get some blankets, she can lie down out here in the fresh air." Using the rail for support, instead of his crutches, Michael headed down the corridor to the infirmary.

Emma sank down to her knees and he went down with her. He sat back against the wall and placed her between his outstretched legs. Leaving the bucket in front of her, she lay back against him.

"I feel like I have been puking for months." She whispered.

"Think ya have." He placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Ug. I'm disgusting."

He leaned his head against hers. "Just sick is all." He murmured, stroking her hair just to give himself something to do. The hardest part of this whole mess was that he couldn't fix it. Here she was, sufferin' and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. _This sucks.  
><em>  
>Daryl wasn't sure how long he sat there with her. Michael brought blankets which they wrapped around her, then shuffled off to find Joel. Some other folk came to gawk, inquire about Emma or offer help. He waived them all off. Wasn't jack shit anyone could do right now.<p>

Rick stopped by with some warm broth for Emma and sat wordlessly with them while she drank up.

When that came back up, Rick went off in search of the doctor. Leavin' him to mind a shaky Emma. Pushing aside his own worry, Daryl held her while she wept herself quietly ta sleep.

-{O}-

"Emma?" Joel appeared from the stairwell an hour later.

"Sleeping." Daryl advised.

Joel nodded. "Rick said the broth came up. I brought some gravol, but it can wait until she wakes up." He sat down in the chair Michael had been in earlier. "I think it's allergies, Daryl." His voice was quiet.

Daryl looked up. "To what?"

"A preservative in the sauces. Often these things sneak up on you. Starting off with small reactions and getting worse over time." Joel shrugged. "If she was first exposed to it when she had food poisoning she might not have felt the difference."

"You sure about that?" Daryl was skeptical.

"It's a theory." Joel scratched the back of his head. "We have to test it to know for sure."

-{O}-

"MSG." Joel sat at the table in their quarter across from Emma's that evening

Daryl had convinced her to return to their rooms once she'd managed to keep down a bowl of rice. "What about it?"

"It's what's making you sick."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." He pushed a bowl of vegetable soup at her. "Glenn recently started using the sauces we picked up from the Asian food store a year back to flavour some of the foods we have. The porridge you eat every morning is one of them. They all have MSG. You're allergic to it."

"Shit." Daryl rubbed a hand over his face. "Fuckin' MSG."

"That doesn't seem possible. I've been so sick..." Emma looked down at the soup, a part of her mind wondering what it would taste like on the way back up.

"Think about it, you were eating that porridge every morning, and every morning you threw up." Joel leaned back in his chair.

Emma pursed her lips. "Are you sure?"

"Only one way to find out. Eat."

Emma lifted the spoon to her mouth. The soup was good, her stomach growled in response.

"So that's it?" Daryl peered at her. _Probably looking to see if I'll turn green again_, she thought.

"Sheila and Glenn are scrubbing all the pots now," Joel advised. "they'll avoid putting that stuff in the take-what-you-want specials and let you know if it's used it in other things." Joel shrugged. "Stuff''s almost all used up anyhow. If you don't throw up, then that will prove my theory."

"Oh joy." Emma shuddered at the thought of being the test subject for Joel's theory.

Daryl patted her on the shoulder. "S'arright."

"So says the man with the iron stomach."

-{O}-

When the soup didn't come back up an hour later, Emma had a second bowl. Daryl awoke the next morning to the sound of her stomach growling. "Stay here" he told her, shrugging on his boots and making a dash down to the kitchen below. He returned with some fresh bread and apple butter for breakfast.

He was currently sitting at the table in their room, watching her wolf it down. Daryl thought he'd never seen a prettier sight. He nudged his half over to her. "Here."

"What about your breakfast?" She asked between bites.

"S'okay. I'll get something later." He leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on another one. He smiled inwardly as she ate his breakfast. Maybe now things would get back to normal.

_Well, as normal as things get._

Emma looked up at him. "What?"

"You're feeling better."

"Much better." She paused chewing for a moment. "In fact I'm starting to think Spot should be worried."

_Spot?_ "The new horse? Why?"

"I'm so hungry I could eat him." As she said it he noticed a bit of the old sparkle return to her eyes.

He nodded, reaching for his buck knife with a sly smile. "How do you want him served?"

"I'm surprised to hear you say that." Emma pursed her lips. "I figure you wouldn't want to forfeit your position as the best hunter at the fort."

"Come again?"

"Well, Gordie pointed out that Spot's bigger than any deer you've ever brought in." She shrugged. "If he counts as food, then you drop down to Number two hunter. I'm not sure that you can handle playing second fiddle to me."

_That there is the smartass I found in the woods._ "If you say so."

Yep. His girl was back.

A knock at the door preceded Michael's voice. "Emma? Emma open up!"

"I got it." Daryl advised, rising to get the door. "You just keep eating."

He needn't have bothered. Michael burst through with a shit-eatin' grin on his face. Joel was hot on his heels and wearing an equally silly expression. "Emma he said yes! JOEL SAID YES!"

"Sorry?"

Joel raised a hand and pointed to his ring finger, it sported a large square-cut diamond.

_No Shit._

"Omigod!" Emma leapt out of her seat and threw herself at Michael, enfolding him in a bear hug. The pair toppled back into Joel, who steadied them. "You asked! You ACTUALLY ASKED!"

"Mumbled, actually." Joel chuckled. "It was very cute."

"Show me the ring!" Emma smiled as Joel gave his hand over to her examination. "Oh, I hoped you'd choose that one. Do you love it? Tell me you love it!"

"It's perfect." Joel acknowledged.

"Congrats man." Daryl reached around Michael and Emma, who was now bouncing excitedly, to shake Joel's hand.

Joel smiled back at him. "I hear we have you to thank, Daryl."

"What?"

"I understand you helped Emma knock over a jewelry store."

"I did?"

Emma smiled up at him. "Remember the first winter you were here? When we cleared out the mall?"

_Oh yeah, the mall._ Most of the damn rings were still kicking around in the bottom of Emma's back pack. She'd never bothered cleaning them out. "It was all Em's doing. I was just there."

"Well thanks anyway." Michael smiled.

"When's the wedding?" Emma asked.

Joel and Michael looked at each other, mouths open. Michael finally spoke. "I have no idea."

-{O}-


	9. Epilogue: wedding plans

**Epilogue:**

Standing in the center of the stable, Emma turned around and cast a critical eye on her surroundings. It was the first day she'd been allowed to resume her normal duties.

"Can I get Spot now?" Carl returned his pitchfork to its place in the corner. "We've mucked, swept, hayed, washed buckets, tidied blankets…"

_Okay, so not *quite* normal duties._ Emma found she was still being babysat. This time by Carl, of all people. "What about the tack room?" She asked, eyebrow raised.

"Archer'd it yesterday. Ask Sal."

"You what?" Emma blinked.

"Archer'd it." Carl shrugged. "Got it done."

"I don't even want to know." She sighed, walking into the tack room she had to agree it was quite clean. Emma felt a twinge of relief that Churchill's tack was still there. A part of her had expected it to be confiscated. "Okay, we're done here." _A full hour and a half ahead of schedule too._

"Sweet." Carl grabbed a lead line and headed for the door.

"Mind Churchill when you take Spot out of the field."

"Yeah yeah, I'll be careful." He disappeared out the door with a dismissive wave.

"Don't let him push past you at the gate!" She called after him.

Emma leaned back against the stone wall, trying to decide what to do with her time. She had a short watch after lunch and kitchen duty in the evening. It didn't fill her schedule. _Maybe I should go find Michael to see if he needs help with the wedding plans._ Her friends hadn't yet decided on a date. The whole fortress was looking forward to the event.

"You done yet?" A familiar voice came from the stable door. She turned to see Daryl leaning on the door frame.

At that moment, Emma knew exactly what she wanted to do with her spare time. She walked over to Daryl, grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him down into a kiss.

"Mmmm." He purred. "That'd be a yes then?" He smiled, picking her up by her waist. She wrapped her legs around his as he stumbled forwards into the tack room and sat her on a trunk.

Their leisurely make-out session was interrupted when Gordie's familiar form appeared in the doorway. "Yeah, that's soo not going to happen."

Daryl broke his kiss. "Fuck off, Gordie."

"Love to. Just as soon as Archie here goes and catches that goddamn horse before he kills someone."

Emma could hear hoof beats in the parade square, accompanied by Churchill's rebellious squeal. "Damnit. I've got to get him."

Daryl tilted his head back and sighed. "Fuck me."

"Archie," Gordie warned. "He's getting into the winter garden…"

"Coming." Emma pried herself away from Daryl and headed out of tack room. She swiped a lead line off the wall as she exited muttering "I'm going to kill Carl."


End file.
